


Dislodged

by Thealmostrhetoricalquestion



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Harry Potter and the Cursed Child - Thorne & Rowling
Genre: First Kiss, Fluff, Getting Together, Holidays, M/M, Magic, all of my stories seem to end with kisses, and a rambunctious squirrel, there is a very big jellyfish in this
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-01
Updated: 2020-06-01
Packaged: 2021-03-02 19:41:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,856
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24492172
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Thealmostrhetoricalquestion/pseuds/Thealmostrhetoricalquestion
Summary: When the Malfoy family invites Albus on a holiday to their lakeside lodge, he isn't prepared for any of it. Not the squirrels, not the deep-sea creatures that glow, and certainly not the clumsy, accidental kisses.
Relationships: Astoria Greengrass/Draco Malfoy, Scorpius Malfoy/Albus Severus Potter
Comments: 19
Kudos: 284





	Dislodged

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Tonks914](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tonks914/gifts).



> I begged fidgety for a prompt and she came up with: beanie, milkshake, squirrel. And because she is a lovely person who sends me Space Parka's on Animal Crossing, I am gifting this fic to her, with absolutely zero pressure to read it. <3

The holiday started off the same way that all Malfoy holidays did: with an argument about asking for directions. 

“It’ll take less than five minutes,” Astoria said, drumming her fingers against the car door. “We wouldn’t even need to ask if you had just taken the normal route.” 

She was wearing a sundress in a shade of deep blue, and her hat obscured a large portion of the windshield, but Draco hadn’t done more than grumble about it before they set off with a distinctly lovestruck look on his face. 

Albus shuffled further into Scorpius’s side. The car was one of those magically-enlarged ones, borrowed from the Ministry, so there were six back seats when there should only have been two and a bit. It was roomy and comfortable, but Albus still ended up squashed against Scorpius’s side to avoid Narcissa, who had taken the three window seats and claimed them as her own. 

“It would take less than five minutes for anyone that wasn’t you,” Draco said delicately. “You’ll find some long lost soulmate of yours on the side of the road and stand there chatting about your life history for three hours. We don't need directions because we’ve been driving to this place for years, and we’re not _lost,_ and I’ll thank you to have a little faith in me.”

Astoria laughed softly. Privately, Albus thought it was one of the prettiest laughs he’d ever heard, but he didn’t have the courage to say something like that out loud. It wasn’t even his first outing with the Malfoy family, although it was his first week-long holiday with them, but he was pretty sure he hadn’t gotten any braver over time. 

“We could have simply Disapparated,” Narcissa pointed out, crossing her ankles from her lounged position across two seats, a thin pipe held idly between her fingers. “Then we could have skipped this nonsense, especially as we all know exactly how quickly you’ll cave in a moment, dear.”

Draco gripped the steering wheel firmly, his jaw grit tight, while Astoria’s grin lit up the front of the car. Four minutes later, the car pulled into a siding so that Astoria could lean out of the window, her dark hair blowing in the breeze, where she cheerfully asked a passing couple for directions. 

Another ten minutes of chat later, and they were off again. 

“Sorry about them,” Scorpius whispered, gesturing to his gently squabbling parents. “They love going on holiday, but they always get so stressy over silly things.”

The last time Albus went on holiday, he ended up locked in the back of the car with Lily while James and Freddie fed Stink-bombs through the window. Hugo got car-sick and vomited spectacularly all over the back seat, and his parents had three epic rows that everyone in the neighbouring tents could hear. It had even been in the newspaper the next day. 

He leaned in to whisper, “Trust me when I say that this is the nicest holiday I’ve been on so far.”

“All this whispering reminds me of my youth,” Narcissa said quietly; when they both wheeled around to look at her, there was a slight glint in her eye. “Hushed conversations together in the dark, leaning in, all that good stuff.”

“Grandma!”

Scorpius’s scandalised yelp put a halt on the conversation up front. Albus shrunk back in his seat, cheeks burning, and busied himself with looking out of the window. They were passing by a field full of cows and grass, and the sky was a perfect shade of periwinkle blue. 

“Mother,” Draco said, eyeballing her through the wing mirror. “Whatever it is you’re up to, I ask that you put it on hold until we reach the Lodge.”

“Mmm,” Astoria added, with a twinkling laugh, “We don't want anybody diving for the doors.”

Narcissa turned her cheek and stared out of the window, affecting a burdened sigh. “If I must.”

The car rattled down a country road for what felt like the longest five minutes of Albus’s life. He could feel Scorpius’s thigh pressed up against his, but every time they caught each other looking, they snapped their heads away again. Albus had a crick in his neck by the time they arrived. When the car finally came to a stop in a quiet driveway, surrounded by woodland on all sides, they both scurried across the seats and leapt out onto newly-cut grass, trying desperately to escape the stiff, tense atmosphere. 

Scorpius caught his eye, and instead of looking away, his lips tipped up in a small, sheepish grin. Albus found his own mouth twitching in response, and the tension melted away. 

“Stop snickering and help me with the bags,” Draco said, nudging Scorpius gently as he passed. “You’re in charge of windows, the both of you, before you run off and explore. Don't let me catch you slacking off.”

“It’s a holiday, love,” Astoria said, peering over the top of the car. “It’s supposed to be fun.”

“It’s fine, mum! C’mon, Albus, let’s go pick our room.”

The Malfoy family owned The Lodge. It was a huge, rustic cabin, sitting on the very edge of a lake and several woodland walks. Albus had heard all about it every time Scorpius came back from Summer holidays, and it was only now, at the end of his sixth year, that Albus’s family had actually deigned to let him go away with the Malfoy’s. 

He followed Scorpius through the Lodge, opening windows as they went to air out the place. He caught sight of old wooden furniture and elegant ornaments, and sofas covered in sheets to keep off the dust. Their bags floated along behind them, made lighter by a quick charm of Astoria’s. 

“Here we are!” Scorpius said, flinging open a door at the far end of the hall. “This is us. There’s a spare room if you wanted to have your own space, but I thought you’d want to share. We can stay up late and eat sweets that way.”

There were two Queen-sized beds, and a set of drawers on either side of the room. A desk took up plenty of space near an old vanity, and there were lamps in the corners that looked like they’d been cobbled together out of shells and hope and glue. Through the balcony doors, there was a perfect view of the lake, deep and blue. 

“It’s brilliant,” Albus said. “Not exactly what I pictured, but brilliant.”

“Most of the stuff was already here when we bought the place,” Scorpius explained. “Dad renovated it, and went to all these fancy antique shows to fill the rooms up, but I asked to leave the bedroom alone. It’s fun, don't you think?”

They got their bags set down with little fuss. Albus threw open the balcony doors, breathing in the fresh, woodsy air. It was so quiet here. 

Behind him, there was a deep sigh, and Albus turned in time to see Scorpius flopped down on the bed. He walked back in just as Scorpius started rolling around on it, rumpling the covers. His prim little laced-up shoes hung off the end of the bed, careful not to get dirt everywhere. Albus folded his arms at the end of his own bed, trying not to grin. 

“What are you doing?”

“Beating away the trolls,” Scorpius said, flapping his hands about haphazardly. “Mum and I used to do this every time we arrived, just to annoy Dad. He always said the beds were nice and made up for us and then we ruined it immediately, but I don't think he actually minded.”

“I think you could do whatever you wanted and he wouldn’t actually mind.”

Albus considered the same scenario with his Dad involved, and the wholesome images crumbled. 

“You’re not supposed to look all miserable,” Scorpius declared, pushing himself up on his elbows. “It’s a holiday, not a funeral. Come on, beat the trolls away with me.”

Albus scoffed, and protested that he wasn’t five, and that trolls were the size of mountains to begin with, but it didn't do any good. Scorpius grabbed him by the wrist and hauled him down mid-sentence, giggling, until they were both sprawled out on the pillows. 

“Much better.”

“You’ll hit me if you flail about now,” Albus said, but his voice was quiet, and there was a smile on his face. 

Scorpius hummed, and turned on his side, eyes closed. “We can just lay here for a bit then.”

He looked so peaceful like that, curled up against the cushions. Their ankles brushed. It was so quiet, and he wanted to protest that they should get up and help, or explore, but this was nice. It was nice, and he didn't want to break the calm, content look on Scorpius’s face. Albus looked at him for a little bit longer, and then turned his face to the ceiling, pretending not to know why his heart was beating like a snare.

*

Narcissa was the one to kick them both out of the Lodge, banishing them to the front porch with a pair of walking boots each, and refusing to let them back in.

“You can come back when you’ve used up some of that abominable energy,” Narcissa said, flicking her fingers to shoo them away. “I’m here to relax, not listen to you both sprint around the halls. I’m sure you’ll find something to keep you entertained.”

She said it kindly enough, but Albus still had to hold back the scowl. When she winked pointedly at him, he flushed to the roots of his hair, and stuffed his feet into the boots, eager to get away. 

“Where to?” Scorpius said, hands on his hips at the bottom of the porch. He looked like an explorer setting out on an adventure, surveying the wildlands ahead. Albus shoved his hands into his pockets and told himself to stop staring. 

“I’ll follow you.” 

“Then let’s go and get lost,” Scorpius declared. 

There was something of a path surrounding the wide, blue-black lake, a dirt track that took their feet a mere scant few inches into the woods. Albus picked up a fallen branch and used it as a walking stick for a bit, and they took turns imitating their teachers, putting on stupid voices until Scorpius was bent double, wheezing into a bush. 

“You’re going to trip or choke if you’re not careful.” Albus hauled him up by the back of his collar, grinning. “C’mon, lets go this way.” 

By the time they reached a viewing point, Albus’s feet were aching and he had forgotten all about being cold. There was a short railing between them and the water, and a set of binoculars mounted on a stalk that had seen better days. Albus peered through it gingerly, afraid of catching some kind of eye disease, and when he turned around. Scorpius had forgone the perfectly suitable bench in favour of sitting on the railing. 

“There’s a giant squid out here, too, you know,” Scorpius said, swinging his feet airily. “I always thought they were rare, but apparently not.”

“You’re sure it’s a giant squid?”

“Well, I don't know if it’s actually a squid, per say, but it’s certainly giant. At night you can see it glow, and it steals bits of food if you leave it by the lake. Although I suppose that could just be the squirrels.”

Albus glanced nervously behind him, at the dark tree-tops. He wasn’t a fan of any rodent-like creature, and squirrels definitely made the list. 

“Sorry,” Scorpius said, with a grin that didn't look very sorry at all. “I didn't mean to remind you of your greatest fear.”

Albus hoisted himself up on the railing beside him and elbowed Scorpius in the ribs. It wasn’t a _fear,_ it was just common sense. There was nothing wrong with a healthy level of respect for nature, and the nature out here seemed much wilder and worthy of respect than he was used to. The Potter’s had one fat cat and a few owls, but he had never really been an animal person. 

Scorpius was an animal person. He had so much love in his heart that it extended to even the slimiest, rattiest of creatures. He held flobberworms like they were precious and tended to every Bowtruckle’s need. Albus wouldn’t be surprised if he ended up in the Care of Magical Creatures profession, or working with the Scamander’s in conservation. 

Every now and again, a distant bird would call out across the water, disturbing the peace, but for the most part, the lake was quiet. The chill started to creep back in now that they were still and quiet too, but Albus didn't want to move. 

“We can’t do a whole circle,” Scorpius mused, staring out across the lake. “We’ll collapse before we even make it a quarter of the way around. But I think we can go a bit further, and then maybe walk back and get milkshakes? Mom was talking about making them from scratch, with ice cream and syrup. Do you like milkshakes? I can’t believe that’s something I don't know, this late in our friendship.”

“Late, huh? What, is there an expiry date?” 

“Mmm, I plan to dial it back to acquaintances in about two years.”

“Very funny,” Albus said, elbowing him again far less gently than the first time. “Don't even joke about that, or I’ll have to spend the rest of my life only talking to James.”

Two years ago, or even a year ago, that kind of joke would have cut Albus to the core. He remembered how insecure he used to be back then, and it wasn’t all gone, not by a long shot, but there was something easier about their friendship now. Being friends with Scorpius was always the most comfortable thing he had ever found for himself, but now it was like slipping into an old jumper, or following an old road home. 

It didn't hurt the way it might once have. Instead he grinned and settled on the railing, debating the best flavour of milkshake. 

“There’s nothing wrong with strawberry,” Albus insisted. 

Scorpius wrinkled his nose. “I don't mind it, but it tastes the most like medicine, I—Oh!” 

Albus turned his head, following Scorpius’s wide-eyed gaze, and found himself face-to-face with a squirrel. It was slightly redder than any squirrel he’d seen before, and it was sitting a few feet away, staring at them with beady, black eyes. 

“Oh, how cute!”

Albus grimaced. “Cute isn’t the word I’d use. Can’t you get it to go away?”

“As far as I’m aware, I wasn’t born with the ability to talk to animals. Short of throwing something—”

“Great, let’s do that.”

“—Which would be _highly_ cruel and inadvisable, we’re just going to have to wait for it to leave. It’s fine, see? It probably just heard us talking and came to investigate.” 

Albus reared back a little, wobbling. “It’s sizing me up.”

“It’s not sizing you up!”

“It’s got it’s little fists raised, Scorpius!”

Scorpius sighed and swung his feet over the railing, until he was facing the rodent. “It’s a squirrel, Albus. That’s just how they stand. See, it’s not going to hurt you—”

Which was precisely when the squirrel darted towards them, and Albus lost his grip on the railing, tumbling backwards into the freezing cold lake.

*

“It’s only been half a day, and you boys are already getting into trouble,” Astoria said, dropping a blanket around Albus’s shoulders. “What are we going to do with the pair of you?”

“For the record, the squirrel instigated it.”

There was a fire burning in the grate, filling the lodge with a crackling, enveloping heat. Albus wiggled his toes in front of it, feeling the warmth seep into his chilled skin. He was no longer freezing, not after a brisk walk back and a ruthless application of at least three Warming Charms, but he was still shivering. The lake had been like ice, and the shock had damn near killed him. 

“I fully believe you,” Astoria said, with a smile that contradicted her statement. “I’ll get you something warm to drink while you wait for Scorpius, mmm? He shouldn’t be long now.”

“Albus doesn’t like warm drinks, Mom,” Scorpius said, scurrying through the door with an armful of throws and blankets. “But he likes strawberry milkshakes, because he’s a heathen.”

Albus made a noise of protest from inside his cocoon. Astoria laughed gently and left them to it, kissing her son on the nose as she passed. He wrinkled it, but a silly grin lit up his face, and it didn't leave him until he was plopped down beside Albus, peering through the opening in his blanket in concern. 

“Are you alright? Still cold?”

“I’m fine,” Albus said, tucking himself further under the blanket. “Thanks for fishing me out.”

“As if I’d just let you bob around for hours on your own!”

Albus grunted in acknowledgement, shuffling closer to the fire. He wasn’t really in much of a talking mood. Draco had been the one to open the door when they returned, Scorpius clutching his soaking wet shoulders while Albus dripped forlornly all over the porch. He’d taken one look at his saturated clothes and droopy hair and sighed so loudly that the entire Potter family’s ears probably pricked up, sensing an oncoming insult. 

But then he’d ushered Albus inside and blasted him with hot air from his wand, so Albus supposed he could be forgiven for the snickering he heard coming from the kitchen. 

“I can’t tell if your dad’s finding this funny or if he’s wondering whether to ship me back already,” Albus said. “What’s that?”

“It’s a hat,” Scorpius said, holding it up. “Your ears look cold.”

Albus eyed it warily. It was a soft, dark green knit beanie with a label stitched onto the hem, and it stuck up a little at the top. It looked very warm, and a bit like something Grandma Molly might have made, if she had access to the fanciest goats in all the land. 

“It probably costs more than my kidney would,” Albus said. 

Scorpius lowered the beanie and frowned. “How do you know how much a kidney costs? Were you in Knockturn Alley again?”

“I was looking for _potion ingredients,_ Scorp, and don't let your mum hear you.”

“Oh, she won’t mind, she’s caught me in worse places in the name of studying! Just put it on, will you? You’re making me cold just by looking at you.”

Albus dearly wanted to explore more of that sentence, but he decided to focus on the most pressing matter; the beanie that Scorpius was shaking around like a rattle.

“I’m not taking my hands out of this blanket,” Albus declared.

He wrapped himself further into the blankets. Scorpius blinked at him, and then sighed, but he didn't put the beanie down. Instead he shuffled closer on his knees, his back to the crackling fire, and leaned in to pull the beanie snugly over Albus’s ears. 

Albus froze. Scorpius was very close, their faces almost touching, and his tongue poked out of the corner of his mouth in concentration. His brows were furrowed in concentration as he tucked Albus’s hair under the hat, smoothing it down with assured, careful touches. He was close and he smelled nice, and it was suddenly far too warm under the blankets. 

“There,” Scorpius said, a brilliant smile gracing his face. It softened a moment later, and the corners of his eyes crinkled. “It suits you.”

Albus leaned up and kissed him. It was instinct, driven purely by the sight of that soft smile sitting only inches from him. It was a clumsy, lopsided kiss that landed badly; Albus caught most of Scorpius’s bottom lip and kissed it quickly, his heart beating desperately, and when he pulled back Scorpius made a soft, drawn-out sound of confusion. There wasn’t even time to close his eyes. 

In the quiet, the fire crackled. Scorpius blinked rapidly, like he was still processing, and Albus fumbled his grip on the blanket, drawing it tighter around himself. He was suddenly, terribly afraid that he shouldn’t have done that. 

“Albus,” Scorpius said. “Albus, what…”

He stopped and closed his mouth, opening it again only to flounder visibly, like a fish in a bucket. 

“I just…” Albus said, but the door opened, and Astoria bustled in, taking no notice of the quiet, vaguely panicked atmosphere. She was holding two towering glasses of thick, pink milkshake, topped high with whipped cream, and a plate of cut up strawberries floated behind her. 

“Two homemade milkshakes, on the house,” she said teasingly, directing them to land neatly in front of the fire. “I had chocolate for the strawberries, but Narcissa seems to have made off with it, so I doubt there’ll be any left at this point. You’ll have to make do with a sinful amount of whipped cream.”

Scorpius sat down with a plop, vanishing into his own blanket. He didn't speak, not even when Astoria peered down at him in concern; instead he latched onto the milkshake and took huge, long gulps, avoiding eye contact. Astoria met Albus’s gaze, nonplussed, and arched an eyebrow in a clear question. 

“Sounds great, Mrs M,” Albus said, smiling weakly. “Thank you.”

*

“Albus,” Scorpius whispered.

Albus was lying wide awake in bed, staring at the dark ceiling. For a minute, he was tempted to pretend not to hear, but something in him churned at the thought. The whole evening had been quiet and awkward. They’d eaten dinner quietly, gotten changed quietly, and climbed into their beds quietly. The only time they had really spoken was when Scorpius asked if he wanted the light on, or if he wanted to go straight to sleep. 

He didn't _want_ to ignore Scorpius. He didn't want things to get awkward or strange and have their friendship fall apart in front of his face. And he really desperately didn't want it to be because of something as stupid as a kiss. 

But the kiss had not felt stupid. It had felt right. 

“Al?” Scorpius whispered, a little more hesitantly. 

He rolled over and whispered, “Yeah?”

There was a soft, relieved sigh from the other side of the room. “Wanna see something?”

Scorpius climbed out of bed first, letting the sheets fall in messy disarray. He slid his feet into a pair of pale blue slippers, and shuffled across the room to the balcony. In one swift movement, he drew back the curtains, sweeping them aside to reveal a strange, blueish light filtering in through the glass doors. 

Albus sat up in bed, frowning. “What is that? Should we get someone?”

Scorpius put a finger to his lips, shaking his head. His hair looked almost grey in the light; it reflected off his silk pyjamas, which Albus _occasionally_ could be convinced were cute, instead of snobby and a bit stupid. 

“Come on,” Scorpius said, voice hushed, and then he slid open the balcony doors and stepped outside. 

The bed creaked as Albus scrambled to join him. He didn't bring slippers, so he settled for socks and almost brained himself on the dresser trying to put them on quickly. He grabbed a hoodie before he darted across the room, but he still ended up shivering at the first brush of cool, midnight air. 

Scorpius was leaning over the railing, waiting for him. His eyes were fixed on the lake, a bright, excited gleam in his eyes. When Albus got close enough, Scorpius reached out and pulled him even nearer, fearless in his anticipation. 

“Watch the water,” Scorpius murmured. 

The blue glow had faded to a crisp darkness. Albus tore his eyes away from the side of Scorpius’s face, lit by cloudy moonlight, and gazed out over the black lake. It shimmered and shone, but with a plain silver varnish. But even as he watched, something crept through the water. It was blue light, and it seemed to start in the very deepest part of the lake, rising steadily towards the surface. 

“I think it’s the squid,” Scorpius said excitedly, his voice still hushed and thrilled. “They do this every time I’ve been here, but only at night, and they never usually come up that far. Maybe the giant ones glow? Or maybe it’s something to do with different species, or habitats. Isn’t it fascinating?”

The blue glow got wider and wider, until it was the size of a small house, peach-shaped and wavering. It rose up from the deep and bloomed on the surface, and Albus couldn’t hold back a gasp; he heard it mirrored in the boy beside him. 

“That’s not a squid,” Albus said. “That’s a jellyfish. How is that possible? This is a lake.”

“Oh,” Scorpius said softly, his mouth parted as he melted against the railing. “Isn’t it beautiful?”

Part of Albus wanted to turn and look at him and say _yes, yes it is,_ but he held his tongue, enraptured. He was still determined not to make things awkward, but suddenly that didn't seem to matter much. The lake was silent. The jellyfish was vast and shining and it floated gently, almost peacefully, bobbing near the top of the water. Tentacles undulated languorously beneath the surface, like streams of starlight left behind in the night sky. 

Scorpius bent and crossed his arms over the railing, resting his head on top of them. “Did you know they’re a form of plankton? And they eat plankton too, or small crustaceans. They don't have bones or a brain or a heart. They’re so simple. But you wouldn’t know it just by looking at them.” 

“I love that you know that,” Albus said without thinking. 

Scorpius turned his head on his arms, smiling up at him with red cheeks. “Really? You don't think I’m a giant nerd?”

“I mean, I do.” Albus shrugged, trying to seem casual, but his heart was in his throat. “But I like that about you.”

“Yeah?” Scorpius seemed to wrestle with himself for a minute, before he said, “I like a lot of things about you. Even if you do like strawberry milkshakes best, and you’re afraid of squirrels. I think I didn't realise how much I liked you until you… did that kissing thing, which I liked a lot, and I really wouldn’t mind if you wanted to try it again.”

The last part came out almost too quickly to hear, but Albus got the gist of it. He felt his ears burn and shuffled his feet, unsure where to look. The deck was cool under his socks, and the lake was a brilliant silver-blue now, but his gaze kept being drawn back to Scorpius’s nervous expression. 

“I’d like that,” Albus blurted out. “If you’re sure it won’t…”

“Ruin anything?” Scorpius bit his lip. “I thought about it all evening, but I don't think it could. Not for us. Maybe for someone else, but not for us.”

The relief dislodged something in Albus’s chest. He’d been thinking it too, _hoping_ for it mostly. Everything they had felt too important to ruin, but it also felt like the foundations of something bigger, something just as important. 

“Well why don't you do the kissing thing first, this time,” Albus suggested, a hint of a grin on his face. “Since you liked it so much.”

Scorpius laughed, coming closer. He kissed shyly and earnestly all at once, a fumbling movement that had them both inching closer, trying to eat up the space between them. Albus found that once he started kissing Scorpius, he really, really didn't want to stop. It was like coming up for air, or that first sip of water when you didn't know you were really thirsty, and you just kept drinking and drinking until you were dizzy and gasping with it. 

Scorpius’s hands felt like heaven in his hair. He pulled back with starry eyes and gazed at Albus, seeming almost lost and transfixed. He traced the line of freckles along Albus’s nose with the pad of his forefinger, softly enough to make Albus blush and grumble something incoherent, although he didn't pull away. 

“That didn't feel like ruining anything,” Scorpius said, breathless and giddy. 

Albus leaned up and kissed him again, letting his eyes flutter shut before he forced himself to move away. They had plenty of time, and that wasn’t even counting all the years stretching out ahead of them after this week was over. 

“We should probably go inside,” Scorpius said, reading his mind. “It’s getting cold.”

Albus looked out at the lake, where dozens of tiny jellyfish had risen to the surface, glowing like stars, surrounding the giant jellyfish. 

“Just a bit longer,” Albus murmured. 

Scorpius slid his hand into Albus’s, holding on tightly, and leant against the railing. He said nothing, but the tiny, pleased smile on his face gave them away. Albus squeezed his hand and watched the lake, and then Scorpius, and then the lake again. 

The jellyfish floated on the lake for a long, long time, deep into the night.

**Author's Note:**

> The squirrel conversation is lifted almost verbatim from a video I found of my best friend being an idiot. Thank you for reading!! <3


End file.
